Early September is my time to catch up with Summer exhibitions. This year notably because heatwaves made me less inclined to do anything much.

Gillian Ayres is an artist whose work  explodes colour. Colour is absolutely my favourite thing about both art and life.

Due to a climbing frame injury, I had a three year old ,with a limp ,as my gallery escort.  She loved the sensation of huge canvases of bright colours.

Visiting an exhibition with a three year old is like doing so after a couple of glasses of Fizz or some other perception enhancer. There is both giddiness and instant joy. The colours and scale of the works we looked at were both monumental and vivid.

Wise nana-ing limits actual art appreciation to about an hour. Another hour is spent creating our own mistress pieces in the hands on gallery.

Then lunch in a nearby student cafe with more colour and texture than the ubercool sophisticated gallery cafe.

The gallery gift shop allowed a small person to see herself reflected in colour.

Drenched and submerged in all things colour my delightful guest asked to go back to the gallery. Music to an arty Nana’s ears.

This time she chose which exhibition to visit. She couldn’t have chosen better. I met an old favourite painting by George Shaw.

Meanwhile she studiously listened to the artist describing his work.

And together we chose the work we would most like to steal from the gallery.

I find the idea of theft from an art gallery is the most wonderful creative  thought process. When I used to work in an art gallery I used it as a conversation starter not only with children but also with grumpy old curmudgeons , who were being mean spirited about the art they were viewing. To be honest I use it on myself when art or anything visual is not to my taste. A little crime fantasy focuses the mind on positivity I find.

What did we do after all this colour drenching?

We pottered off to an allotment and found yet more colour. Just enough to fill a small hand.